


Flirtation

by ThrowTheDice



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Jealousy, Penis In Vagina Sex, Punishment, Reader-Insert, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29841315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrowTheDice/pseuds/ThrowTheDice
Summary: You had thought nothing of it, just Ace being Ace. He liked to flirt. It wasn’t anything serious. Unfortunately, nobody had bothered to tell Michael that.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	Flirtation

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this to tumblr ages ago, but I'm currently in the process of transferring all my work over here. I figured this one was long enough to warrant a piece of its own :3c

You had thought nothing of it, just Ace being Ace. He liked to flirt. It wasn’t anything serious. Unfortunately, nobody had bothered to tell Michael that. Unbeknownst to you, your fate was sealed the moment your fellow survivor touched your arm in a way that was just a little too friendly.

You didn’t see the silent shape stalking you or the way his grip tightened on his favored weapon. When you ventured just a little too far from the orange glow of the campfire, he materialized from the shadows behind you. Like a viper sinking its fangs into its wayward prey, a large hand shot out to cover your mouth and drag you backwards into the darkness. You struggled until you realized it was Michael. When you saw the cold fury in his eyes, you felt a spike of fear, but also that dangerous curiosity that curled in the back of your mind and prodded at the darkest parts of your imagination.

That curiosity had gotten you killed in any number of brutal ways in trials, curiosity killed the cat and all that. You were just thankful that here in the Entity’s realm, you had more than nine lives. Your curiosity had also led you to seek Michael outside of trials in the first place, so you couldn’t fault it too much.

Your musings distracted you long enough for Michael to haul your unresisting form deep between the trees where no one would find you and he could have you all to himself for as long as he wished. And have you he would, again and again until you couldn’t possibly forget exactly who you belonged to. You were his and his alone, and it seemed you were in need of a carnal reminder.

You yelped when he forced your back up against a tree with the weight of his body pressed to yours. He loomed over you, the white of his mask revealing nothing, but the eyes behind it baring all. You trembled beneath their intensity, licking your lips nervously. You tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Your hands were on his chest, attempting to create some distance so that you could better look at him. He wasn’t having it. 

He took both of your wrists in one of his hands and brought them above your head. A loud  _ thunk  _ drew your attention upwards, and you found that your arms were now trapped in their position above you by the knife driven through your shirt sleeves and into the thick trunk of the tree. You tugged experimentally against your improvised restraint and ascertained that you were well and truly stuck.

Michael’s now empty hands were free to traverse you unobstructed. He trailed them over your soft hair to drag the tips of his fingers across your face, lingering at your parted lips and chin for a fraction of a second before continuing on. He stopped at your neck, revelling in the fluttering of your pulse. It beat like a little bird and would have been just as easy to crush. His fingers overlapped as he wrapped his broad hands around the column of your throat., heat coursing through him when he felt your heart rate increase and your breathing become stuttered and shaky. Your fear was intoxicating, sweet on his tongue. He tightened his grasp, constricting until you were gasping uselessly. 

If you had had use of your hands, you would have been clawing at his hold on your airway. You struggled against both your pinned sleeves and the immovable hardness of his body to no avail. Your vision swam and darkened. You could hear nothing but the rushing of your blood in your ears. Just when you thought it was all too much and you were going to fall into the beckoning arms of unconsciousness, his hands fell away and he stepped back from you.

You felt Michael’s eyes on you as you gasped and choked on the lungfuls of air you sucked in, still lightheaded and weak. When you could finally see clearly, you looked up at him. You tried to appear unimpressed and unafraid, but most of all you tried to hide the eagerness you felt. His hands around your neck always led to one of two things, and he couldn’t kill you outside of trials.

All at once he surged back towards you, taking your expression to indicate defiance. You swallowed thickly, expecting to be choked again, but then gaped when instead his fingers dug into your hips. You watched with wide eyes as he slowly dropped to his knees before you with more grace than someone of his stature had any business possessing. It always astonished you that an action that would normally seem so submissive could feel so predatory when performed by him.

His cold fingers found the clasp of your jeans, slowly undoing the button and lowering the zipper, all while making sure you watched him work. He proceeded to yank both the denim material and the soft fabric of your underwear down your legs. The chilled air against the heated flesh of your sex was a strange but welcome sensation. Michael tossed your clothes carelessly to the side, still maintaining eye contact.

You watched with rapt attention as his hands came up towards his head, fingers curling under the edge of the mask. Your breath caught in your throat as he peeled the visage away at a torturously slow pace. You had long ago accepted that you would never see the man behind the mask, come to terms with the fact that for all intents and purposes the mask  _ was  _ his face. Yet here he was, kneeling before you and removing what had become such an integral part of his identity.

For a moment, all you could see was dark curls. He hunched over the mask in his hands, thumbs brushing across the white rubber surface reverently. He set it aside with a gentleness you had not seen from him before and slowly raised his lowered head, revealing his face to you.

He was younger than you expected, younger than his build and strength suggested. He had smooth, boyish features that were near angelic in their perfection with the exception of the long, thin scar that marred the area between his left eyebrow and cheekbone, clouding his eye to a dulled, milky grey. You wanted to touch the smooth line of his jaw and the softness of his lips. He monitored your reaction, you were unsure of what he was looking for and his expression betrayed nothing.

He bent forward to lean his cheek against your bare thigh, you closed your eyes to soak in the feeling of his skin against yours only for them to fly open at the same time a pained yelp was ripped from your throat. You leaned as far forward as you could to look at the man kneeling at your feet, his face as blank as the mask laying a few feet away. A reddened circle bloomed around the impressions of his teeth where he had bit your thigh, not hard enough to break skin but certainly hard enough to bruise.

Your eyes followed his mouth as he turned his face so that he could press open-mouthed kisses to the area around the bite mark. He sucked bruises into the unmarked skin, leaving a trail leading inwards towards the apex of your now quivering thighs. When he reached his destination, he paused. He spread your legs with his hands and his hot breath fanned out across your near dripping cunt. For an agonizing handful of seconds, he merely observed you, taking full advantage of his front row seat to your arousal. You thought you would go insane if he didn’t do  _ something  _ soon. Your whole body felt like it was on fire and he had barely touched you.

You keened when he finally buried his face between your thighs and licked a slow stripe from your entrance up to your aching clit. His short nails dug into the backs of your thighs, leaving crescents that beaded with blood. The pain combined deviously with the overwhelming feeling of his tongue circling your clit in a way that left you a panting, moaning mess of wanton pleasure. You tried to buck your hips towards him, to force his tongue harder against you, but his grip on your legs held you firmly in place. 

Even without the added pressure, you were unbearably close. You looked down at him with half-lidded eyes, face and neck flushed bright red and lips parted to allow your heavy breaths to cloud in the cold nighttime air. He opened his eyes to watch you through his thick eyelashes. That alone almost sent you tumbling over the edge. You could feel the flames of pure ecstasy licking across your body, emanating from the heat settled into your core.

When Michael pulled away you nearly sobbed. 

“No… Please, Michael! I’m so close! Please! Please!”

Your begging fell upon indifferent ears. He simply sat back and watched as you attempted to plead with him. That dangerous pink tongue of his darted out to lick your fluids from his lips in a lazy swipe, savoring the taste of you that was made all the sweeter by his denial of your release.

You gasped when he leaned back in, revealing your excitement, only for him to turn away from the place you so desperately wanted him. You whined as the pleasure withered and died. His lips and teeth found your other thigh. He left a trail of bitemarks and hickeys to match those on your opposite leg. 

You were too enthralled by his mouth to notice that one of his hands hand left you. He looked back up at your face at the same time he pressed one long finger into you. You sucked in a breath and bit down on the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. The copper tang of it filled your mouth. For someone whose expression had not changed once since he had removed his mask, he looked awfully pleased with himself.

A strangled sound managed to escape your now blood filled mouth. He stretched you with the single digit until he could fit a second alongside it. He curled his fingers and there was no hiding the moans that bubbled up from your chest. He pressed his thumb to your already sensitive clit and you cried his name like a prayer. Your swollen sex and velvety walls were dripping with need as his nimble fingers worked you into a frenzied haze of babbled pleas and chants consisting solely of  _ Michael, Michael, Michael… _

Your arms ached, still pinned firmly above your head, but you would have been willing to hold the whole world on your shoulders if Michael would just let you finish. That ledge you had been more than willing to swan dive over just a few minutes prior was rapidly approaching once more. You wanted to beg him for mercy, to cry out for him to quench the burning flame that was overwhelming you, but you couldn’t coerce your mouth into forming around the words. All you could do was thrash your head and attempt to grind down on the fingers that filled you so well. 

Just as before, however, when he felt your walls clench and heard your heightened moans, he withdrew.

This time you really did sob. Heated saltwater rolled down your reddened cheeks and dripped from your chin. You struggled weakly against your own clothes, trying to free your arms so that you could touch yourself and finally relieve that unbearable ache that had settled itself between your legs and into your core. You pressed your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure there, but found that it only made things worse.

Michael held his fingers up to his face, observing the way that your slick coated them. He stood then, and you were reminded once more of how much bigger he was than you as you craned your neck to look up at him. He brought the hand he had been fixated on up to your face, placing the two fingers that were covered in your fluids against your bottom lip. You obeyed his silent directive and opened your mouth. He pressed in, dragging his fingertips across your tongue and forcing you to taste yourself. You closed your lips around the intruding digits and sucked lightly, tongue teasing against him.

His other hand snapped upwards to your hip, dragging your lower half away from the tree. You gasped at the sudden movement and he pulled his fingers from you. He took a handful of your hair and tugged your head to the side, granting himself access to your neck. He latched onto that perfect meeting point between your jaw and throat where he could feel your hammering pulse against his lips and tongue while he marked you with his mouth.

Michael ground the heated length of his clothed erection against your soaked lower lips. With a bruising grip, he hiked one of your legs up over his hip to make more room for himself between your thighs. He growled into your throat and his teeth dragged threateningly against your jugular, you couldn’t smother the whimper it caused. The whole thing felt feral and raw.

You had never been more turned on in your life.

You swore that you had died and gone to heaven when you finally heard the sound of a zipper being undone. He shrugged out of the sleeves of his coveralls before pulling his black t-shirt over his head and depositing it on the ground beside his mask. There was no hiding the look in his eyes or the dusting of red across his face and neck as he freed himself from the blue fabric. His own need was hot and heavy against your heavily marked thigh, you shivered at the proximity to your weeping cunt.

The hand in your hair released its hold on you to wrap around the handle of the knife. He ripped the blade from the tree, subsequently letting it fall from his grasp to tumble to the ground. He gave you no time to celebrate the freedom of your arms before he was lifting you off the ground and wrapping your other leg around his waist. He was done with games and he was done with waiting, filling you in one harsh stroke of of his hips and leaving you with no choice but to cling to the hardened planes of his body as he quickly settled into a brutal pace.

The snap of his hips against yours was hard and punishing but you were beyond caring. You could feel the heat of his bare chest even through your shirt and bra as he pounded into you. He pulled sounds from you that you hadn’t known you were capable of making. You were oversensitive from all the edging he had put you through and his cock filled you so perfectly. 

You dragged your nails down his back and nearly missed the slight tremor it caused, but couldn’t possibly have missed the increased intensity of his thrusts. He brought one arm up to lean against the bark of the tree to steady the both of you while he renewed his assault on your throat, seemingly on a campaign to decorate it entirely in hickeys. You sang his praises in a litany consisting of garbled, indecipherable moans and shrieks of his name. Again, and again, and again, witnessed only by the pale moonlight that filtered through the dead and dying leaves of the forest canopy.

For the third time that night, you felt the tightening in your core, the knot there so close to snapping. When you could no longer control the clenching of your walls around his cock, you thought for sure Michael would pull out of you and leave you to suffer the loss of your orgasm. When he continued the pistoning of his hips without sign of stopping, relief swept through you, and hot on its heels was that final flood of pleasure as the cord inside you snapped. The intensity of it was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and you howled as it filled you.

Michael grunted and bit down on your shoulder as he tumbled over that edge after you. He had made it his mission to mark you in any way possible, that apparently included your insides as well. You were completely filled with him, further evidence that you belonged to him.

You still didn’t know what had gotten Michael so worked up, but you hoped you could make it happen again soon.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my work, please consider leaving kudos and a comment!
> 
> If you REALLY enjoyed it, consider supporting me on ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/slashthedice.


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